Witness: Day Thirty-Three, Wednesday

Because I'm a writer, and have always had a dramatic flair for a story, I very much relate to something Lee explained to me about the difference selves within each of us.  There are three parts to me:  me the actor, me the narrator, me the witness.  The actor is the person who goes about the daily business of life, doing the things I do and even thinking the thoughts.  But the narrator in me is the person who judges (and harshly, I might add) everything I do and don't accomplish.  She provides the running commentary in my head.  The witness is someone I've only recently become acquainted with.  The witness is the  the calm, non-reactive meditant who only appears for twenty minutes a day and to give her those twenty minutes is the actor's duty. For twenty minutes every day, I consent to sit and witness myself. I consent to observe the awful thoughts, uncomfortable feelings, and odd phrases that fly in an out of my head, on the cusp of the dream. (London officer, Citibank: what on earth can these words mean?)